Read Thorn for Free Online Page B

great eyes watching me. I return its gaze, feeling the slow rise and fall of my breast. Eventually it turns and flies away, dropping into the darkness. I sit up and light the lamp next to me. I remain watching for a long time, long after I have ascertained I am alone. Jilna finds me asleep, leaning against my pillows with the lamp still burning, when she comes to wake me.
    I dress quickly, aware of how well Jilna knows me, how she holds out the sleeves of my dress just so and brushes and braids my hair. She brings me the cloak the king gave me, that our nobles might see me wearing it. I take her hand as she pins the cloak closed and for a moment I am still the child she reared, the girl to whom she told stories every night and comforted when my brother was cruel. I hold her tightly to me and she in turn embraces me, and it is a strange good-bye, without words.
    My mother has prepared a different farewell for me in her apartments. The curtains are still drawn across her shuttered windows. She sits next to a carven desk, illuminated by a single lamp.
    “Well, Alyrra, you are off. Are you worried?” I incline my head in assent. “With good cause,” she agrees, her voice relaxed, sleepy. “I have devised some help for you against the sorceress, if she is truly a danger. It is a simple but potent spell.”
    I nearly choke—magic? Since when has my mother dabbled in magic? And how abysmally little I know her if I do not know this! She unfolds a square of white silk no larger than a kerchief.
    “Wh-what spell is that?” I manage to stammer.
    She smiles a slow cat smile. “Watch.”
    She picks up a needle that glints gold in the lamplight and pricks her finger. As the first drop wells up and falls to spread on the silk she begins to chant:

 
    “Heart’s blood, ruby drop
    Bind my love to you;
    Mind’s blood, dark drop,
    Bind my knowledge to you;
    Soul’s blood, last drop,
    Bind all strength to you.”

 
    A wave of dizziness passes over me. I stagger sideways, bumping into the edge of the desk. When I raise a hand to my face it comes away damp with sweat.
      “What have you done?”
    She folds the cloth and slips it into a pouch. “I should think it abundantly clear: I have bound my knowledge and love of you to the blood. When you meet the prince, find a way to dip this in a drink of his—a goblet of wine should work well. I expect you will have to wait a few weeks. Make sure no one sees you, especially not him.”
    “What will it do?”
    “Naught but make him aware of all that I know and what little I love of you.” I shake my head. Mothers frowns but elaborates further. “It will make him more your ally than anything else I can do. He will know who his enemies are; if he loves you even a little, he will try to protect you. Keep the pouch safely.” She hands it to me. “I shall meet you in the courtyard in a few minutes.”
    “Mother,” I say hesitantly.
    “Leave be, child.”
    “What did the last line mean—about strength?”
    “I have bound your strength to it. What did you think? That’s why you mustn’t lose it. Now go; your escort is waiting.”

 

Chapter 5

 
    I wait with Jerash and my brother at the Hall door. My brother does not speak, his eyes slitted against the bright morning light, his face a little too pale. For once, I am thankful for his penchant for drinking. When Mother arrives, we walk out together, pausing at the top of the steps. Mother smiles and wishes me health and happiness in a voice that carries to the farthest servant in the crowd. I curtsy to her, and my brother leads me down the stairs to the carriage, pausing as a hostler brings forth a white stallion.
    “My gift to you on your betrothal,” he says, his voice hoarse and grating. The horse stands tall, bright eyes turned towards me.
    “A noble creature,” I say, “and a beautiful gift. I thank you.”
    We continue on, my brother muttering a few words about how well trained the horse is. I try not to care. We pause